Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?
by TheVicksburg
Summary: The accounts of an Irish exchange student as she goes through her days in Bayville as a mutant-in-hiding. Contains OC, of course.


_Chapter One_

I have officially decided I do not like New York. I especially don't like Bayville. Is that even a real city? Well obviously it is but it sounds stupid. It isn't even an improvement over New Orleans. New Orleans had some culture to it. This place is just kind of gray and sad. Like a swamp. Of course it is December and rainy, but I've heard it's almost always like this in New York, no matter the month.

I've been here for a good two days and I've spent those days in bed, watching Lifetime movies. I am a girl with nothing better to do and a lot of feelings that I need to get rid of. I really just need some ice cream and tissues to complete this total chick flick moment but my foster mother doesn't believe in that. She does let me have water and those funny little tissues with animals on them. They're supposed to be for the twins because they're like 9 or something and love anything that's not human but she and I have this cool bond and she lets me have a few every once in a while.

But right now, I don't care about that because she's forcing me to get up and take a shower.

"It's not like I smell."

"Ok well it's not exactly healthy to stay in bed for more than a night. If you stay like that long enough, you'll be paralyzed. I think."

"Facts, Gloria. Give me that in writing by a certified doctor and I will rise and shower."

"Get up. I need to take you to the high school so you can get whatever it is you need."

"Oh, no it's alright with me if you just forget that I have to go to school. No one has to know. I won't leave the house."

"I'll see you downstairs in half an hour." She walked over to my bed from where she was standing by the door viciously yanked my comforter off me. She left with it, and left the door open to irk me even more. She probably thinks that'll get me up. It does.

I was showered and dressed pretty quickly. She didn't quite approve of my Lolita-esque outfit so she made me change into something normal looking for her standards.

I just wore some jeans and a nice sweater with an embroidered cat on it. It's not much of an improvement since neither outfit will really get with the in-crowd. But hey, my sweater is a good conversation starter, for when they ask if I actually made it. I can pretend I'm good at something relatively cooler than math.

The ride over was less than 5 minutes. We live less than 5 blocks from the place. I think Gloria just wants to help expand that hole in the ozone layer. She did not appreciate me telling her that walking would have been better for both of us, but more her because she looks like a plum with that purple coat she was wearing.

The school looks pretty awkward and sad when you first look at it.

It gets worse the more you look.

The inside was an improvement, because the hospital white floor and lighting blinded you from really looking at the imperfections. Very smart, Bayville High. Very smart.

The front office was pretty nice, I guess. The picture behind the desk was pretty weird and I just kept my eyes on that. I was pretty into that painting so when the front desk lady said my last name, not even attempting to pronounce my first name, I jumped and gave myself whiplash. Gloria shook her head at me and motioned for me to go get the papers the lady was holding, impatiently might I add. It was the usual: a schedule, locker number, and combination.

I smiled at her and thanked her. I guess my accent threw her for a loop because she kind of just stared and nodded, understanding the connection between my name and accent. She didn't look too surprised at my foreign-ness so I'm going to over analyze that and hope there are other foreign students here, maybe even from around North Europe. I'm not gonna hope for anyone Irish but maybe somewhere around there.

The step-monster and I left right after I took the paperwork. In the car, I got the lecture I was hoping to avoid, or at least have with my dad. I had to be sure to not speak unless spoken to because I'm a snappy little brat. I'm also not supposed to talk to anyone weird because as we all know, they could be mutants since they lurk everywhere, even though they are pretty much in hiding, and we do not want to associate ourselves with them.

_That means I can't go join a mutant gang and do all sorts of illegal stuff that I'm actually really too chickenshit to do. _

_I'm not even a cool mutant with a cool power! I'm just good at faking confidence._

_(Don't tell my dad and the step-monster I said that. They don't know I'm really just a "freak". It'll put a damper on the holidays.) _

So for now I'm back in my little cell, as I like to call it, watching some more Lifetime and just waiting for tomorrow to come so it can end.


End file.
